


Farm Boy

by audreycritter



Category: Batman (Comics), Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Flashback, Gen, Kent farm, Storytelling, based slightly on a true story, fluff fluff fluff, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 04:52:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7963147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreycritter/pseuds/audreycritter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Kent recounts a story of Clark's childhood while Bruce visits the Kent farm. Super short, super fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farm Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegalacticpope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegalacticpope/gifts).



> Don't own them. Based loosely on true story. Moved from tumblr. Part of effort to move/upload short fluff to balance out my longer stuff.

“...so I don't know what I'm going to do with him,” Bruce is saying just as Jonathan Kent walks into the kitchen. Bruce and Clark are sitting at the kitchen table with cups of coffee and they both stop their conversation when they see him.

He sits at the table with them, looks hard at them both, and then says,

“That boy giving you trouble?”

“Some,” Bruce admits, without elaborating.

“Did I ever tell you about the only time I ever spanked Clark?”

“No…” Bruce says slowly, glancing at Clark to judge his reaction. Clark has gone as white as a ghost.

“Well, then,” Jonathan says, and he has a huge grin on his face. “You're in for a treat.”

Based on Clark’s reaction, Bruce is now curious. He leans forward a little, sips his coffee.

“Go on,” he says.

“Oh, Pa,” Clark pleads. “No.”

But Jonathan starts talking anyway.

Clark puts his head down on the table and wishes the floor would swallow him whole.

“So, Clark was little, maybe what, Clark? Nine or ten?” Jonathan doesn't get an answer. He moves on. “Anyway, about the age of your boy Damian. Maybe a tad younger. Martha's sister Anna comes to visit with her three boys. Anna is sweet as pie, but her boys are brats through and through.

“The middle one, Mike, is about a head taller than Clark and he picks on Clark the whole first afternoon. He won't leave the poor kid alone. Ragging on him about anything and everything. Well, I grew up in a time where you didn't interfere with that. Boys need to learn to sort it out themselves, so I let it go, even though it's killing me.”

Jonathan stops here to take a gulp of coffee and glances at Clark. Clark is still not moving, head on the table. Bruce has just the hint of a smile, reserved but anticipating humor. Jonathan continues.

“So, the second afternoon they're here, I can tell Clark is just about fed up. I’m starting to think I should step in. He was a patient kid, but he's got these powers, you know? I didn't want him to lose it. But I tell myself, ‘Jonathan, a few more hours. That's all. By dinner tonight if it's not cleared up, and I bet they'll be best friends as soon as they get it out of the way.’

“I'm working around the corner of the barn on this tangled pile of baling rope and I hear Clark ask his cousin if he'd learned about alternating currents in school. Now, Anna’s kids are city boys, you understand. This was all new to them. So Mike says of course he has, not wanting to sound dumb, and Clark says, ‘oh good, then we can play this farm game. It's a little dangerous so don't tell my ma,’ and now I'm curious as all get out. I'm just frozen, listening. I don't know if he picked up something stupid at school or what.

“And then he says to Mike, ‘you see that bull? The electric fence around ‘im works on alternating currents, you know, to save money. He gets shocked once or twice and he leaves it alone, even though the sections take turns being live.’ Mike is just eating this up. His dad makes a pretty penny and he's not been shy about treating Clark like poor white trash. I'm standing there with my mouth hanging open because I know it's damn well not true. That fence is live all the time. I can't figure out where he's going with this.

“Then I hear him tell Mike, ‘so me and the guys play this game, where we guess which section is dead and pee on it, you know, like a dare. But I bet you're too chicken.’ Now I have never in my life heard Clark taunt somebody like that and I'm standing there realizing I let things go way too far but now I just can't move, I'm so shocked. I peek around the barn just as Mike says,

“‘I'm not chicken but I bet you are,’ and Clark, the ballsy little shit,”

“LANGUAGE,” Martha calls from the other room.

“Ballsy little shit,” Jonathan repeats in a lower voice, “ _drops his pants and pees on the fence_. Then he looks at Mike and just shrugs and says to Mike, ‘this one was off. Your turn.’

“Poor Mike couldn't handle being shown up and moved faster than I could. I'm running around the barn and I just hear this blood-curdling shriek. Martha and Anna come tearing out to see what's the matter and Mike is just rolling on the ground, crying. And you know what, maybe I'm an awful man, but I'm a little bit tickled. Martha and Anna are yelling though, so I haul Clark off by his ear back around the barn and I whupped him as hard as I could, laughing the whole time, and even though not a lick of it hurt him he hollered like he was dying.

“Anna and her boys left that night and Martha didn't speak to me for a week.”

Clark risks looking over to see Bruce’s reaction because there is a long silent pause after Jonathan stops and goes back to his coffee.

Bruce meets his eyes for one brief second, just long enough to confirm that Jonathan is not lying through his teeth, and then he starts laughing. He laughs harder than Clark has ever heard him laugh before, until he's bent over the table with his head in his arms, crying.

Every time Clark thinks he's going to stop, Bruce takes a breath and it starts again.

“You are so damn proud of yourself,” Clark says with a touch of bitterness to Jonathan, but he finds that he is now close to laughter, too.

“I didn't know you had it in you, Clark,” Bruce finally manages.

“None of us did,” Jonathan says, chuckling and wiping his eyes. “Martha was so terrified she made him work from dawn til dusk for days. She kept saying, ‘you've ruined him, Jonathan, you've _ruined_ him’ when she did talk to me.”

Bruce is sitting back now, wiping his face with the back of one hand.

“Thank you,” he says to Jonathan. “That is the best story I've ever heard.”

“I hate you both,” Clark says, putting his head back on the table.

Bruce claps him on his shoulder when he stands and leaves the room, still laughing a little.

“Mm,” Jonathan says to Clark when they're alone. “It is a good story.”

And despite himself, Clark grins.

 


End file.
